


Arms Race

by the_authors_exploits



Series: Strangers in Nothing but Name [6]
Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drama, Gen, M/M, TechGala, Wade makes an appearance because he's important in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7032145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce hadn't planned on Jason being at the TechGala; Jason had dreaded it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awaken

Jason shifts about on the rooftop edge; he rearranges the wriggling bundles in his jacket and shush kisses at them when they mewl. He’ll go home in an hour or so, when Wanda is hidden away for the night and he doesn’t have to worry about being pulled into a sparring match or more crazy attempts to ‘awaken his power’.

She’d been relentless since the morning on the top of the tower, but nothing could draw it out; at this point, Jason’s beginning to wonder if she’s just messing with him. It would be her sort of humor to torture him with falling off a building or that one time she set up a pitching machine and told him to deflect the balls flying at his face.

That had been fun, almost as fun as explaining his black eye to Steve.

“Did someone beat you up, kid?” Jason does a mock impression of Steve, switching into his normal voice to answer. “There were thousands of them, pops, I couldn’t fend them off! _Who? Where?_ In the gym, tennis balls!” Jason chuckles, and the spotted thing in his jacket reaches up. “You should’ve seen his face!”

“Why do you have kittens in your jacket?”

Jason startles away from the sudden man besides him, swearing loudly. “Fuck, man, you just don’t do that to a dude!”

It’s a man in a mask; a latex body suit? The entire thing is red, the whites of the mask very similar to the ones on Jason’s mask, and despite the stranger’s face being completely covered Jason swears he sees the man blink curiously at him. “True; or, you could be more aware of your surroundings. Now,” the stranger clicks his tongue. “About those kittens?”

Jason peeks into his jacket; there are three little ones, a pure white, a gray striped, and a sort of pinto patterned one. The striped one meows at him, the most vocal and active of the trio, and Jason smiles at her. “Uhh, their mom…” Duchess went missing four days after she gave birth; Jason had found them hidden behind a dumpster in Duchess’s alley. He’d found six; one was a stillborn, two died from starvation or sickness or…something, Jason’s not sure. “I dunno, she hasn’t shown in a while.”

The stranger nods and plops down next to Jason; there’s suddenly a hand in front of Jason’s face, and he can swear he knows the man is grinning. “Pool.”

Jason takes the hand, shakes it suspiciously.

“Dead.”

“Your name is Pooldead?”

Pooldead throws his hands in the air and rocks around dangerously, considering they’re right on the edge of the very tall building. “No, no, no! I’m Pool, Dead!”

Jason just stares at him, absently tucks a kitten’s head back into his jacket. “I don’t get it.”

“Like Bond!”

“Ohh, Deadpool.” Jason thinks for a moment. “But you know, Bond doesn’t say it like that; he goes ‘Bond, James Bond’. He reiterates his last name so we know it’s…ya know, his last name? So we know the order his name is in.”

Deadpool stares at him for a second and then dramatically throws his head back and yells. “How could I forget? It’s Bond, he’s iconic!”

Jason chuckles. “It’s ok, buddy.” He pats the man on the shoulder; “So, what, are you a vigilante?”

“Uhh, well, I am out and about to avenge myself; does that count?”

The white kitty digs his claws into Jason’s abdomen and he stuffs a hand in the jacket to pry him loose. “I don’t see why not.”

“And you? What’s a teenager doing dangling their legs off a skyscraper?”

Jason shrugs then taps the edge of his domino mask. “Did the mask not give me away?”

“Well, considering I only really know one other teenager who swings through cities in a spandex suit, no, it didn’t.”

Jason swings his leg. “Well I’m Phoenix; I work with the Avengers.”

A high pitched gasp and Deadpool presses his hands to his cheeks. “O-M-Gee, really? I love the Avengers! They won’t let me work for them though, I’ve talked with Fury and Stark but I can never get ahold of the pretty one in the red cape.”

“Thor? Yeah, he’s not around a lot.”

“You’re lucky, kid!” Deadpool kicks his feet and starts humming an unknown tune. “All those cute ladies and gentlemen…”

“Why won’t they let you in the Avengers?”

“Ohh, hahaa~!” Deadpool bobs his head. “They say I’m too ‘unstable’ and ‘murderous’. Whatever that means!”

Jason eyes the man; he’s heard some rumors from overhearing conversations between Tony and Fury. He shakes his head; so Deadpool is a little more volatile than Stark, it’s not like they have Thor or the Hulk on their team…

“The X-men want me but they want me to stop killing baddies; well, that, and the author’s not that into X-men.”

Jason peeks back into his jacket; the kittens have all fallen asleep, bored or warm, either way they’re content—but Jason still can’t bring them back home. Tony is allergic, and he doubts Steve and Bucky would allow him to keep 3 kittens who still don’t know how to properly use a litter box. “Do you like cats?”

“Ohh, no!” He holds his hands up and shakes his head; Deadpool is very articulate with his body language, and Jason ducks to avoid a flailing hand. “I don’t like cats; they shed and scratch and track litter all over the house!”

“Well, I need to find these three homes; ya know anyone?”

Deadpool invades Jason’s personal space and tries to nearly shove his head down Jason’s jacket to see the kittens. “Why don’t you take them home?”

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna be in so much trouble when Steve finds out I’m the one who kept taking his Tupperware to feed an alley cat, let alone me coming home with 3 kittens.”

“Because they track litter?”

He sounds so genuinely understanding that Jason doesn’t think he can be sarcastic. “Uh, yeah; because they track litter.”

Deadpool pulls back and nods. “Yeah, I get that.”

Jason shakes his head, grinning despite himself; this Deadpool sure is a character.

“Ohh, my, well there’s my playdate.” Deadpool stands and stretches.

Jason looks across the street, to the roof on the other side, and waves at Spiderman. “Is that the other spandex-kid you were talking about?”

“Spideykid! You know him?”

Jason nods. “Yeah, we sometimes tag-team the baddie of the week, or cross paths on patrol.”

Again, Jason could swear Deadpool is smiling. “Good! You need a buddy out there to watch your back; but, hey, stay safe, okiedokie?”

Jason flaps his hand, which causes Deadpool to flop down beside him again.

“I mean it, Phoenix.” Deadpool’s voice has gone from the playful tone to a very serious, responsible one. “You’re a good kid and I’d hate to hear somehow that Jason Todd is dead.”

Jason shakes his head; he’s no longer surprised when people call him by his name and not the hero term. The Avenger’s identities are known, unlike the League Jason grew up in. Before he can respond, Wanda suddenly lands behind them and Jason twists to greet her.

“You have to come home, Jason.”

He frowns. “I’ll be home in a bit.”

Wanda tosses her head, and he momentarily wonders at the panic in her tone. “No, you have to come home. Now!”

Deadpool is, once more, smiling and he wiggles his fingers. “H-ello~!”

Wanda only glances at him. “Jason, the Joker broke out of Arkham.”

Jason snaps still; his chest tries to suck in air but barely moves, fast. The Joker hasn’t made an appearance in a while, and Besides him, Deadpool slowly stands and pulls one of his guns from his thigh holsters; he checks the clip and puts it back in. He turns to Jason and pats him on his shoulder.

“Go home, kid; I’ve got some errands to run.”

Jason doesn’t remember the walk home; he just knows that he walks into his home with 3 kittens still tucked into his jacket and Steve only looks a little confused before he heads out for supplies.


	2. all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter that serves no purpose other than I wanted to write it

Spiderman only becomes suspicious when he spots Wanda’s shaking hands; she’s unsteady, something very uncharacteristic of her, and when Jason stiffens Spiderman readies a web. But then Deadpool stands determinedly and pats Jason on the shoulder, and Spiderman furrows his brow; something’s up.

Wanda takes Jason away, and Deadpool makes his way to Spiderman’s rooftop so he waits patiently for the other man. Wade appears at the stairwell door, shoulders squared and fingers tapping a rhythm on his guns.

“Spideykid!” His voice is as casual and light as ever, but Spiderman isn’t convinced. “How’s it going~?”

“What happened over there?”

Deadpool slings an arm around Spiderman’s shoulders; he’s obviously grinning, but Spiderman is pretty sure it’s his murderous grin. “Joker’s out of Arkham, so I’m gonna make a pit stop at Gotham for a minute.”

“Deadpool, that’s Batman’s area; you know you aren’t allowed to cross over into League territory. You’re only allowed in Avenger territory so Fury can keep an eye on you.”

Pool waves a finger. “That’s what you believe.”

“Deadpool…”

“I’m not passing up the chance to knock a few teeth in and break a psycho’s kneecaps.” Deadpool bops Spiderman on the nose and dances away quickly. “So I’m afraid, mom cherry—”

“I think you mean mon cheri.”

“—our playdate needs to be rescheduled.”

Spiderman presses a hand to his face. “Deadpool…”

“Toodles, my love! Eat your vegetables and kiss your guardian goodnight!” He takes a step into the stairwell.

“Deadpool!”

And he freezes.

“Just…just be careful…”

Deadpool turns on his heel, blows an exaggerated kiss, and skips out of view.


	3. my

Peter tips to one side, swivels his arms, and rights himself; the balance beam isn’t something he normally fools around on, but Jason doesn’t feel like wrestling or playing basketball or trying to use the pitching machine appropriately, with a bat, so Peter amuses himself on the balance beam and watches his friend from the corner of his eye. Jason is sprawled out across the mats, foot tapping occasionally across the plastic, and Samson—the white kitten—tiptoes about. His sister, Hawk, the striped one, gnaws on Jason’s toes whenever he moves; Peter looks around.

“Where’d the other one go?”

“Hm?”

“The third kitten? What’s its name?”

“Cecille; she’s around here somewhere.” Jason flaps a hand absently, and Peter nods.

“Anything you want to talk about?” he asks when Jason doesn’t say anything.

Again, Jason is quiet; he shakes his head and Peter flops off the beam, lands in a crouch and topples to a roll. He stops next to Jason and sprawls out; he doesn’t want to push, doesn’t think Jason would appreciate that, but he also doesn’t want to leave Jason alone to wallow. He has a tendency to do that.

“Jason…”

He twitches his foot again and Hawk bats at it. “You know, I used to live in Gotham.”

Peter nods, quiet, listening.

“And you know Joker’s out again and I remember…god, I remember being so scared living in Gotham. Joker, Riddler, Penguin, Killer Croc, Poison Ivy… There are so many to be scared of, and they just keep coming back!”

Peter inches closer, if only because there’s a tight strain of anger and panic seeping into Jason’s voice.

“I was a kid and there was no hope; Gotham is hopeless. It’s dark and heavy and there’s…” Hawk makes her way upwards, noses at Jason’s chin and he scratches behind her ear. “There’s no escaping. Peter, no one gets out of Gotham; if you’re born in the slums, you stay there. Until someone kills you or you die; there’s no getting out, ever.”

“You did.” This isn’t what Peter normally does; Peter is the friend that Jason doesn’t have to bare his past, his history. Peter is the friend that doesn’t push, that lets Jason be whoever he wants to be, away from what’s happened and what should define him. But right now, Jason needs to hear this so Peter will break role and talk. “You got out, Jason; Wayne took you in.”

Jason barks a laugh. “Oh, yeah, and then I fucking died!”

Peter doesn’t say anything; he gets like this sometimes, and Peter lets him.

“You work for a newspaper; what did they report when Bruce Wayne’s second ward went missing.”

“Jason—”

“What did they say?!”

Peter pushes Samson away when he gets too close. “They said you died.”

“Say it, Peter, what did they say?”

“Don’t make me…” He’s here now, Peter wants to say; it doesn’t matter what the news said, what they reported on, the rumors and the horror.

Jason sits up and Hawk mrowls unhappily, moves away skittishly with her brother. “What did they say?”

“They said…they said the Joker…killed you.”

“I didn’t escape Gotham.”

Peter wishes they were laying on a carpet so he could pick nervously at it. “You’re here now.” It doesn’t matter what Peter believes, whether the Joker did capture Jason and he suffered from amnesia or if he did die and is somehow alive now. What matters is right now. “You made it out, Jason.”

He flops back down. “But not everyone can; it’s dirty there, Pete, and I want it clean. I don’t understand how…how _Batman_ can keep doing what he’s doing. It’s not helping; it’s not doing anything.”

“It’s not saving people?”

Jason shakes his head. “It’s not…”

That seems to be the end of it; Jason goes quiet and Peter checks his phone because it’s buzzing for the millionth time. It’s a text from Harry, all of them are.

 _Where were u yesterday?_  
answer  
pete?  
is2g peter if u don’t answer  
may says ur with jas, everything ok?

Peter clicks at the keyboard.

 _Told ya id be busy yesterday_  
yes im with jace  
hes ehh… wanda says its smthng  
todo with joker

_Ohh…hope he feels better_

_TechGala tonight_

_You going?_

_Nahh; you start blowdrying ur hair yet?  
don’t wanna be late to the gala_

“Hey, Jason?”

“Hm?”

Peter tucks his phone away. “Stark’s going to the TechGala tonight right?”

Jason shrugs. “Yeah.”

“What’s his presentation about?”

He shrugs again. “Glasses and PTSD I think.”

“Glasses?” Peter raises a brow, and Jason opens an eye to glare at him.

“They’re tech glasses.” Jason flaps a hand at Peter. “You’ll see them at the gala.”

“I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

It’s Peter’s turn to shrug. “The picture industry is going to be booming with professionally done pictures taken at the gala, so I’m not really going to waste my time; plus, I’d need a press pass and seeing as how Jameson still doesn’t like me…”

Jason chuckles, then quiets and makes a sour face. “I’m going.”

“What, really?”

He nods. “Bucky thinks it’d be good for me, and also Pepper won’t be there to babysit Tony so someone has to. Wanda’s going to go too.”

Peter shakes his head. “I pity you.”

“It won’t be boring at least; I mean, technology is pretty cool.” He frowns again, looking bothered. “Wayne’s going to be there.”

His phone buzzes again and he fishes it out. “Harry’ll be there; he’ll drive you home if you want to leave early. Seriously, any excuse to leave early—he’ll take it.”

Jason grins. “Thanks…”

The door hisses open and Wanda steps in, Cecille in her arms and mewing softly. “Jason? Hi, Peter.”

He stands and steps forward to great her; the message on his phone was from May, and it seems she needs eggs for her pie tonight so if he wants to make it back home before dark he’d better head out now. “Hi, Wanda, how are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

He smooches her on the cheek and she grins when Cecille bats at him. “Hello, to you too, little one; I’m good. I should probably head out though; Aunt May needs eggs.” He shoves his socked feet into the sneakers left at the edge of the mats. “Heard you guys are headed to the TechGala?”

She hums and sets Cecille down, who dances over to her siblings and they tumble about playfully; Jason soldier crawls to join them. “Pepper wanted me to come down and remind Jason that he needs to be ready for 6.”

“Hear that, Jace?”

Jason flaps a hand at them, and Peter chuckles.

“Alright, well you two have fun tonight; give me all the latest scoops tomorrow.” He gives Wanda another quick kiss to her cheek goodbye and waves at Jason.

In an abandoned warehouse in Gotham City, Deadpool swings a bat at the Joker's head and laughs.


	4. POWER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: we are beginning to enter Civil War territory; if you havent seen Civil War, some of what's been written may not make sense to you and/or might spoil Civil War!!

“Imagine being able to relive…and fix…something that’s tormented you for years. These glasses, this simulation software that I’ve created can, indeed, help those suffering from PTSD or going through therapy right now; you’ve heard of virtual reality therapy? This…” Tony, standing under the bright lights on the stage, sweeps his hand across the set up; it’s a room, white, minimalistic, but they all saw what the glasses portrayed at the healing process it could give. “Is modeled after that, and is theorized to be 4 times as likely to help patients overcome their nightmares, and help heal feelings of guilt, turmoil, and grief.”

Jason frowns down at the glass in his hand. “You think they’ll let us swipe some wine?”

Wanda giggles and takes a sip of the punch they’ve been served. “Why not champagne?”

“I want to get drunk, Wandy, I want something hardcore like vodka… Or scotch.”

“And wine will get you drunk?”

“No, but it’ll taste better than champagne at least,” he mutters into his cup.

“Champagne will get me drunk,” she declares as she boldly switches her punch for a flute of champagne.

“It gets you tipsy, not drunk.”

She shrugs and sips the drink; on stage, Tony finishes his presentation with a swooping bow and promises of little to no price of the technology for doctors. The curtains close on his set, and the announcer steps up to shake his hand, thank him, and commend him.

“Once again, StarkIndustries floors us with your innovations, Mister Stark.”

Tony grins and waves out over the adoring crowd, and takes his leave when the woman delicately indicates offstage. She turns to the awaiting crowd and announces the next presenter.

“For our next presentation for the medical part of the TechGala, honorary Bruce Wayne—hailing from our sister Gotham—brings to us a potentially life saving innovation for hospitals everywhere.”

Jason snorts into his cup and grabs Wanda’s champagne, downs it in one go; he’s going to have to be a little bit tipsy to deal with this.

“At least you haven’t seen him around the floor.”

“Yet,” Jason reminds her. “It’s going to happen eventually.”

“If you think negative…” she taunts, and Jason finishes the sentence for her.

“Then negative happens.”

She spreads her hands and, once more, swipes a flute of champagne to replace the one Jason stole. “That is the basis of karma, yes?”

“I don’t believe in karma.”

The house lights dim once more, indicating another presentation about to start, and the curtains pull apart to display a much less elaborate display than Stark’s or even Luthor’s or Osborn’s. It’s a simple thing really, a cylinder tipped at an angle, a glass front and handles, knobs, and displays on the side. The spotlight is bright on it and slowly, dramatically, Bruce Wayne steps in from the side; Jason snorts and coughs into his hand to cover it up.

“Imagine, if you would, you’ve just been diagnosed with cancer.” Bruce is unlike Stark, and even Harry; whereas they are expressive with their body language, Bruce stands rigid and still. “Now, imagine, the very ordeal that could save your life has one of two options: it will make you sick, so sick you will wonder if it’s worth it to keep going, or it will take too long.” Bruce moves then, slides a hand along the sleek design of his capsule. “What if I could tell you this machine would save you from these fates? I present to you, and announce a donation of two capsules for every major hospital across the eastern states, The Stasis.”

The audience responds, applause and cheers, and Jason mocks them while Wanda laughs. Bruce continues to pander, to lecture and demonstrate and explain; eventually, Jason gets bored of listening to him and drags Wanda around the hall in search of food.

It’s another twenty minutes before Bruce is done; he opened his time for questions, which he answered honestly and hopefully, and Jason knows a lot of stock holders are going to ask to get a claim on the project.

Jason gnaws on a shrimp unhappily; he doesn’t even like shrimp. He turns to Wanda with a mouthful. “Ya know what that shit was?”

She shrugs uninterestedly. “Some sort of coma machine; I dunno, you kept pestering me about where the brownies were hiding.”

Jason nods, also uninterested, and glances about the mingling crowd. He swallows and shoves the last couple shrimp towards his companion. “We should find Tony before Pepper finds out we lost him.”

Wanda follows him to the backstage door, and they wave their wristband badges at the security and they let the pair in; Jason pokes his head in side rooms as they march through the hallways and pass workers back there. Jason makes a face at The Stasis when they pass by it and Wanda mocks Harry’s improved blood chemistry analyzer by making silly faces at it; Jason’s pretty sure she’s a little tipsy.

Jason turns the corner and sees Tony near the end of the hallway, talking to someone and sipping a cocktail (where’d he get a cocktail? Jason wants a cocktail). He picks up his pace, grinning and ready to tease Tony a bit, when he catches sight of the back of Bruce’s tailored suit and broad shoulder. It’s too late, he’s sure, because Tony’s already glanced at him and smiled and Bruce is already turning to see who’s captured his colleague’s attention. Still Jason uses his moment to turn on his heel and step back the way he came.

“Jason.”

He thinks about ignoring Bruce, but Tony’s there too and Wanda is looking wide eyed over his shoulder; and he’s no coward. So he turns back around and marches determinedly back towards the pair. “Tony, when are we getting out of this shithole?”

Bruce looks about to reprimand but swallows it with his glass of wine.

“In a bit, Wayne and I were just having an invigorating conversation.”

Wanda wonders if she should go find Happy; he’s somewhere in the crowd out there, for show seeing as how Tony drives them everywhere. “Mister Wayne,” she greets, and he shakes her hand firmly. “Wanda Maximoff.”

“I’ve heard great things about you, Miss Wanda.”

She watches him, notices the slight twitch in his eyes that want to look at Jason; she notices the tense way Jason holds himself, staring anywhere but at Bruce. “The Stasis seems a wonderful invention; that people can get the treatment they need without having to consciously suffer through the side effects is promising.”

“I hope so.” He smiles at her, before turning to Tony. “And virtual reality therapy doesn’t get the recognition it deserves; I’m excited to see where the VR glasses Stark has made will bring us.”

Tony flaps his hand and drains his cocktail. “Big talk for rivals, ehh, Wayne?”

They share a laugh and Jason grits his teeth, fists his hands; he’s uncomfortable, he’s unhappy. That Wayne would stand here and chat casually with Tony, when Jason was in the other room—that they would laugh and banter like friends. He’s angry at Wayne for acting like nothing is wrong, and he’s angry at Stark for acting like friends with the man who’s hurt Jason so much.

“And how are you, Jason?” that’s Bruce, suddenly deciding Jason is worth his time. “How’s school?”

Tony goes to, casually, drink but then remembers he has nothing left in the glass; Wanda flits her hands, unsure, and Jason flexes his jaw.

“It’s going great,” he manages.

“That’s good.” Bruce clears his throat. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you, actually; you and the…Avengers.”

Wanda twists magic around her fingers, as uncomfortable as Jason if for different reasons, and the magic helps her feel safe.

“I’ve been contacted by multiple different disturbed sources and, quite frankly, my own worries and I was hoping we might put…constraints down for when you go out with them, Jason. I’ve given custody, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t still bring my thoughts in; you are…”

Jason huffs out a long, loud breath through his nose, and Wanda feels a sudden surge in the air; it’s heavy, and dark, a beast straining against its cage. Tony merrily looks stunned and like he would prefer to be more drunk for this conversation.

“You are…or were…my son…once. After what happened in Sokovia—”

Wanda swallows a strangled noise; the wound is still fresh, always deep.

“I would like you to be…safe.”

Silence meets this, and then:

“You’re an asshole!” Jason laughs out, cold and unforgiving, and there’s that surge again in the air. “A fucking prick!”

Tony stops gnawing on his lip long enough to mutter something about needing another drink, and then he tosses the toothpicked olives at Bruce. “Seriously? Even you have to admit, that was a low blow.”

“And you have to admit that your group is putting these children in danger.”

“Children?” Wanda mocks.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical, Wayne?”

Bruce glances about the group. “Excuse me?”

“You and your League and your Titans? Come on!”

“The League ensures the Titans safety.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, Bruce, remind me again how many times I came home with a broken rib? At least I can be truthful to my teachers now!”

“You know what, this isn’t a comparison,” Bruce deflects. “This is about my ward being safe in another’s care.”

“You have no claim to him anymore!”

“Your ward? You gave me up!”

A hush falls then, and Wanda feels the beast calm into a deadly rage; Bruce stares wide eyed at Jason, and Tony leans heavily against the wall besides him.

“You didn’t even fight for me, Bruce,” he accuses. “So don’t you dare come in here and try to dictate how I live. It’s over.” And he turns and goes; he doesn’t know what happens after he leaves. He just hurries away, wanting to be gone forever, wanting to hide for a while and he finds a one room bathroom that he ducks into, locking the door tight behind him.

He leans heavily over the sink and gags, tugs and tears at the tie wrapped about his neck until he can breathe again; he sucks in great breaths, chokes away the tears, and slowly lifts his head to face himself. The mirror reflects back splotchy cheeks and watery eyes.

“Why does it bother you?” he asks. It shouldn’t; he should be over it, but he can’t be. He’s angry and he’s hurt and he wants to go home but it’s becoming harder to believe he belongs somewhere and why did Bruce have to be such a fucking dick?

His face sets then, slowly, into an expressionless gaze; fine. People can be dicks; it won’t hurt him. Not now, never again; let them be jerks, let them hurt him. He’ll protect himself. He’ll hurt them back.

There’s a flash of bright green and the mirror shatters in front of him.

In the hallway, Wanda hurries about trying to find Jason when she’s nearly knocked off her feet from a metaphysical blast of energy that arches across reality, rips through her being and tears at her magic, and she has to steady herself and catch her breath. When she realizes what’s happened, she breaks out in a run—whatever run she can do in high heels and a short dress.

She follows the signature to a bathroom, knocks once and calls for Jason; when there’s no response, she magics the lock open and throws the door wide. The sight that greets her is not necessarily what she expected; Jason stands, hands braced on either side of the sink, in front of the mirror. The cracked glass reflects his steady gaze, his slightly glowing eyes, and she sucks in a sharp breath. She follows the fissures and fractures.

“Jason…did you do that?” she whispers.

“Yup,” he answers, tone level.

She breathes in, and slowly smiles.  “You’re powerful.” She feels accomplished, hopes she’s helped him in some way; she knows what magic is to her. It’s a security, something that’s hers to control and call upon, a comfort when everything goes awry; she hopes it comfort him too.

In another maze of hallways, Tony is presented with a picture of a smiling dead college student by his grieving mother and faces the accusations he believes he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Talk to me on tumblr!](http://ace--jace.tumblr.com/)


End file.
